A Vile Mantle

I don't know your face, <race>, I don't like new faces. There's enough trouble in these forests without outlanders dragging theirs along.

But you're here now, curse it all. The Master says it is all part of the Wolf Serpent's will and who is foolish wee me to disagree? Thus, I say you should help with your part.

It gets pretty cold up here in Gilneas and we pellars need clothes as much as anyone. Track down the Vilewing Bats and the Duskpelt Wolves, then bring me their furs. You'll find them almost anywhere in this country, but the closest are to the southwest.

The sacrament of the hunt is crucial in the order of nature. Death feeds life, which feeds death, which feeds life.

The circle is unbroken.

Look at that, an outlander with some mettle. We say that a man is not made until he has won his first hunt, but I can see this wasn't your first.

I can tolerate your foreign mug a little more. Now scurry.